oceans rise, empires fall
by nishikinos
Summary: Four years ago, Hinata Shouyou lost his little sister—and made a decision that cost him both his legs.


It is difficult for Kageyama to remember life before Oikawa Tooru.

He can remember lying awake in bed, hearing his parents speak through the thin walls of their old, run-down home in Kitagawa Daiichi.

"Iwaizumi has taken in a student," his father had said.

"Really?" Kageyama had heard the surprise in his mother's voice. "But he said that he wouldn't after Nara got sick."

"Well," Kageyama's father had said, "it seems that this Oikawa Tooru kid is something else."

 _Something else._ Yes, Kageyama thinks, that definitely describes Oikawa Tooru, even now. How else can you describe a man who became a colonel by age twenty-nine and is hailed as a national hero?

Colonel Oikawa is something of an icon at Central Command: military hero to some, lover to others, and childhood idol to one Kageyama Tobio.

And he wishes to speak to Kageyama.

When he enters the office, the colonel has already prepared, leaning forward on his desk to rest his chin lightly on his interlaced fingers. As soon as Kageyama has closed the door, he has two sets of eyes trained on him.

It's odd, he thinks, that the effect of these men's gazes can be so different; when he can feel Oikawa's gaze on him, something tells Kageyama to _run away fast_ , yet First Lieutenant Iwaizumi is different—protective, almost. Like Kageyama has someone there for him, watching his back. It's a sense of security that Kageyama has always known, all the way back from when he would be pushed down into the snow by the other kids, and Iwaizumi-san would be the one to help him up and walk with him home. Even now, years later, at Central Command rather than a small northern town, Kageyama can still feel his careful, instinctively protective gaze despite its mask of war-hardened eyes and premature frown lines.

"Ah, _Tobio_." The colonel straightens up, stretching his arms before leaning back casually in his desk chair. Oikawa has always been one of the only people to call Kageyama by his given name, the others being his parents and Iwaizumi. The way he says it in that sing-song tone of his, has always been more than a little bit grating to Kageyama. It had none of the warmth of his mother, or pride of his father, and it's completely unlike the way Iwaizumi would ruffle his hair when he said it, like a brother. "I have an assignment for you."

He can't help but repeat, "An assignment for me?"

Since earning his status as a state alchemist and being placed under the command of a certain Colonel Oikawa, the young and promising Freezing Alchemist had done little more than paperwork. _If you want to make it to the top, you've got to earn your way there_ , Oikawa would chime as another stack of paperwork was handed over. It was his way of _mentoring_ , the colonel claimed.

Kageyama was almost certain that it wasn't out of fondness, nor was it out of the colonel's helpful, giving nature.

" _Yes_ , an assignment!" The lightness in Oikawa's voice does nothing to ease Kageyama's discomfort with his sharp, unforgiving gaze. "Doesn't Tobio listen to his commanding officer? No wonder this is your first!" He releases an awful giggle, one with no real mirth.

Something in Tobio's chest tightens. Coming to the military—it was supposed to be his _future_. He, the youngest state alchemist, was supposed to become the famous Flame Alchemist's protege and eventually become the greatest alchemist the world had known. But the colonel had flat out refused to teach him the secrets of flame alchemy, he spent most of his days doing the colonel's most tedious paperwork, and most days he felt much like he did when the other children his age in Kitagawa Daiichi left him to walk home alone in the blizzard. Not much, he thinks, has changed since those days.

"Colonel." Iwaizumi's voice cuts through Oikawa's laugh, firm but not unkind, and he stops immediately. "The assignment."

"Ah, yes. As I was saying," he says, though he hardly sounds serious. "I'm sure you know of the Fullmetal Alchemist, don't you?"

"Everyone knows of the Fullmetal Alchemist," Kageyama says. It's true—before Kageyama's certification, Fullmetal had been the youngest alchemist in the military, and that was excluding the most remarkable part of it all. Automail legs, and the ability to perform alchemy without drawing transmutation circles—the kid was a freak of nature, if there ever was one.

"He didn't earn his certification just for fun, you know," Oikawa says, and his voice turns serious. Seeing Oikawa sobering up like this—it's not common. What he's about to hear, Kageyama realizes, is serious, and most likely confidential. "He did so in order to have the funds and resources to acquire the Philosopher's Stone."

It occurs to Kageyama that this may be some sort of cruel joke. Come to think of it, it wouldn't surprise him if the colonel thought this a funny prank to play. But then again, Iwaizumi wouldn't look so serious if there weren't some gravity to the situation—but what, exactly, was the point of all of this? "The Philosopher's Stone doesn't exist," Kageyama says, slowly, unbelieving.

"Research has been done," the colonel says simply. "Fullmetal wishes to find as much information necessary to find—or create—the Philosopher's Stone." His face brightens, then, smile returning, and he adds, "And _you_ , Tobio, are going to help him!"

"You want me to help the Fullmetal Alchemist chase a myth," Kageyama says, hardly believing what he's hearing.

"What," Oikawa says, more bite in his words than usual, "are you finally realizing that you are a child who cannot handle the military?"

"Colonel," the lieutenant says, again.

"You leave tomorrow," Oikawa concludes. "You are meeting Fullmetal in—what was it, Lieutenant?"

"Karasuno," Iwaizumi supplies helpfully.

"Ah, yes," Oikawa says. "His quaint little countryside hometown. I've been informed that he has gone back to visit his automail engineer?"

* * *

"It's not _that_ bad—"

"'Not that bad'?" Sugawara echoes, trying not to sound too shrill. Seeing his eye twitch, Hinata cowers in his chair. He's seen how hard Sugawara can punch Sawamura. His engineer lets out a sigh. "Well," he concedes, "I suppose it's nothing that I can't fix. You really should try to stay out of trouble, though, Shouyou."

"I'm a _state alchemist!_ " he cries, a little defensive. This is just because he's doing his research, and okay, so some assholes tend to get in his way, but—"It's part of my job!"

"You didn't _have_ to become a state alchemist," Sawamura points out. "Look at me, I—"

"Still manage to need more automail repairs than him," Suga says, fond exasperation seeping through his words.

"Oh, so it's my fault now? Maybe something was wrong with my automail," Sawamura teases, earning a him a _whack_ from Hinata's detached leg. He winces, rubbing his arm. As he has come to learn, a hit from a metal leg hurts a lot more than a flesh one.

Sugawara brandishes the leg like a weapon—which, knowing him, it might as well be. "It's always your fault, Daichi."

Daichi rolls his eyes fondly, as one does. "I'd best be getting back to the front of the shop," he says, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. "Yachi will want to come by before she heads home."

Hinata brightens a little at that, sitting up a little straighter on his chair.

Sugawara sighs, blowing a strand of hair out of his face as he tinkers with the automail. "You're going to have to stay until tomorrow, at the very least," he says. If he can work on them all night—well, he's pretty sure he can have them finished by the afternoon.

"You're the best!" Hinata says, and Suga laughs.

"I try," he says.

Yachi pokes her head through the doorway, and Hinata almost flings himself off the chair to greet her. "Hitoka!" he cries at the same time that she exclaims, "Shouyou!"

The two begin chattering at a mile per minute as they begin catching up—" _And then the guy went gwahh!_ " Listening to them, Suga smiles, resuming his work on the automail.

By the time Daichi returns to the workshop, Yachi has gone home and Suga has just installed Hinata's temporary automail.

"Good, Hinata, you're still here," he says. "You got a call from Central Command—Second Lieutenant Hanamaki called?"

"Did something happen?" Hinata asks, part curious and part confused. It's rare for him to be in contact with Oikawa and his team. For a commanding officer, the colonel doesn't seem too concerned about what Hinata does, so long as it doesn't make him look bad—not that Hinata has ever minded.

"He said that Colonel Oikawa has sent someone to help you with your research. He'll be here tomorrow," Sawamura says. "Who was it—a Major Kageyama, I think?"

 _Kageyama?_ Hinata thinks, scowling. Of all people, he didn't expect Kageyama. The youngest state alchemist in the country—and damn powerful, too. He'd heard that the Freezing Alchemist walked around Central like he was better than everyone else. Wouldn't the colonel want to keep him close? Why would he send the so-called 'solitary king' to help Hinata with his research?

Unless the solitary king _asked_ to help. It wasn't a secret that he wanted to learn the secrets of flame alchemy—maybe he wanted to claim the research for himself! What if this was all a plot to seize power from the colonel? From the _fuhrer?_

But the Philosopher's Stone is _Hinata's_ , he thinks, not anyone else's to take. He's the one who's been working on this for years. When the Freezing Alchemist arrives, Hinata will show him who's really in charge around here.

* * *

"You heading out?"

Iwaizumi looks up from his desk—Watari is standing by the doorway, uniform coat slung over his arm. Hajime looks down at his paperwork, and then back up. "I'll be a while still. The colonel keeps me busy," he says, nodding toward the stack still on his desk.

Watari chuckles. "Maybe it's because you're the only one who can keep up with him," he says. And then, "Well, I'll be going. See you tomorrow, Iwaizumi."

"See you tomorrow," Iwaizumi echoes, waiting until the door clicks shut behind the lieutenant before rising from his seat.

Standing in the doorway of Oikawa's inner office, he briefly considers making his presence known. Before he can knock his knuckles against the doorframe, Oikawa is already looking up at him.

"If you keep crouching over your desk like that, you're going to be hunched over like an old man," Hajime remarks, before crossing the room to stand before his commanding officer.

Oikawa pouts. "Maybe if you did more of the work, I wouldn't have to spend my time hunching over," he reasons, and Hajime snorts.

He runs a hand through his short hair—it's pretty useless, considering that it's hardly long enough to thread fingers through and definitely not long enough to mess up—and sighs. This has always been the hard part. He's always had this—this _soft spot_ for Tooru, but there's also the fact that he's likely the only person that Tooru would listen to.

"Tooru," he says.

Oikawa peers up at him through his eyelashes in a way that Hajime is sure he thinks looks innocent, and okay, maybe Tooru has some really nice eyelashes, but he's not falling for this. "Yes, Hajime?"

"Why, exactly, did you think that it was a good idea to send Kageyama out on a wild goose chase?" he demands. "He's a smart kid—you know he's of more use here at Central."

" _Aw_ ," Oikawa coos, "does Hajime miss Tobio?"

"Enough with the bullshit, Tooru. I want to know why you're wasting manpower." Hajime crosses his arms, eye contact unrelenting.

"You know," he continues in that god awful tone of his, "Tobio has always had a little crush on you. Isn't that cute?"

"Don't be petty, Tooru. Of course he doesn't." Hajime resists the urge to roll his eyes. "Just because I helped him out when he was a friendless kid—"

"He still is a friendless kid," Tooru points out helpfully.

"—doesn't mean that he has some sort of crush on me." Hajime actually does roll his eyes, this time, before adding, "So why is it, exactly, that you feel so threatened by a 'friendless kid'?"

Tooru scowls in a way that makes him look about fifteen years younger, a way that reminds Hajime of the times when his father would end the lessons for a day and make him wait to learn more about alchemy. "I don't feel threatened by him," he says, knowing that he couldn't fool Hajime even if he actually tried.

Hajime frowns a little more deeply, forehead creasing, arms still crossed. "Well, that 'friendless kid' leaves tomorrow, so you're going to have that much more paperwork to do. You had best get back to work, Colonel," he says, closing the office door behind him as he exits.

Stepping outside, he brings his lighter to the cigarette perched between his lips. Sometimes, he thinks, taking a long drag from his cigarette, the colonel is a piece of work.

* * *

Daichi leans against the doorframe, waiting for Suga to pause his work before he makes his presence known. The light by which he works is dim, Daichi thinks—far too dim to be good for his eyes when he's working this late. He's bent over his workbench in a way that's just begging for bad posture, and Daichi would comment if he weren't so focused on just… watching him.

Sugawara Koushi has always been dedicated to his work. Daichi has always known this. There's no stopping him, Daichi thinks, watching him at work on Hinata's automail. Before Koushi, he had never known that there was a graceful way to use a wrench.

The low light turns his ash-blond hair golden, and if he were a poet, Daichi would say that the lamplight casts an ethereal glow on him, but in truth, he thinks, it makes Koushi seem human more than anything. He can see the little bit of sweat glistening under the light as he tightens a wrench, the flutter of pale eyelashes as he blinks quickly, trying to refocus on the work in front of him. He's just a _person_ , Daichi thinks, and that's perhaps what once made him seem so unattainable. For someone to be so dedicated to his work—to other people, to helping other people and giving them a new chance at life—is something uncommonly _good_ , and it's times like these that Daichi is so grateful to have someone like Koushi to love.

The wrench drops to the workbench with a metallic _clang_ and Sugawara audibly sighs. Daichi takes the pause in work to speak.

"Are you going to stay up all night?" he asks.

Suga starts a bit with surprise, but when he turns to face Daichi, there's only tired fondness written on his face. "Daichi," he says. "It's late. You should be sleeping, you have a shop to run tomorrow."

" _Koushi_ ," Daichi mimics, crossing the room to the workbench in long strides. "You should be sleeping, too."

"Hinata needs to be able to leave as soon as he can," he says. "And I need to have these done by tomorrow, I can finish them by late morning—"

" _Or_ you can come to bed now, and finish it by mid-afternoon," Daichi interrupts, resting his hands as lightly as he can on Koushi's shoulders. "I'm sure the major won't mind staying for lunch."

Sugawara opens his mouth to speak, but Daichi cuts him off, sighing. "You just dropped your wrench, Koushi. Don't even try to tell me you're not tired."

He pouts, and Daichi knows he's won this one. A slender, calloused hand snakes up to cover his, and not for the first time, Daichi wishes that he could feel it. "Your hands have been bothering you, haven't they?" he asks, a quiet murmur with a certain tenderness that makes Daichi's chest constrict a little bit because it's a tone solely reserved for _him_. Looking up, he meets Daichi's eyes.

"A little," he admits. "But you need to work on Hinata's legs first. And you need to take care of yourself—that's the most important."

Suga laughs—quietly, tiredly—and Daichi feels a little bit lighter. "Ah, but that's what I keep you around for. I do love it when you make that soup."

"You don't have to be sick for me to make soup, you know," Daichi says. "Come on." Koushi obliges, intertwining his fingers with Daichi's, giving a little squeeze that Daichi won't feel.

Almost as soon as they're under the covers, Daichi hears the heavy, steady breathing of Koushi as he sleeps. Warm arms wrap around him, holding him close, and Daichi feels the dryness of calloused hands against his skin. Squeezing his eyes closed tightly, he wills himself not to think about the fact that he won't ever be able to feel him, to hold him with his own hands. It's a gift that's been given to him, he knows—a gift given to him, made for him, by Koushi himself, out of nothing but love. It's maybe the greatest thing Daichi could've asked for, a beacon of hope when his future had looked bleak.

He opens his eyes. He can't pretend that things are the same, because they're not. Where Koushi is soft and warm, Daichi is cold and clunky, and the automail may give him the use of his hands to work but he can't touch, can't _feel_ , and—and even now he has this stupid fucking hope that maybe Hinata really will find the secret to the Philosopher's Stone, that maybe it's not a myth after all. How pathetic is that? His greatest hope for the future is a nineteen-year-old worse off than him, searching for something that very well might be a myth. Still, Daichi clings to the hope that maybe, _maybe_ one day he'll be able to caress Koushi's cheek with his thumb, his real one, to feel the line of his jaw, to know the roughness of the callouses on his fingers, to be… normal.

In his sleep, Koushi's arms tighten their hold, as if sensing Daichi's worries, and he closes his eyes. Even if nothing changes, even though things aren't quite normal—this isn't so bad.

* * *

The train ride is, to say the least, awful.

Somewhere along the way, Kageyama had fallen asleep against the window, waking to a horrid crick in his neck. Scowling, he straightens out his uniform from its rumpled state. That's what he gets, he thinks, for falling asleep on a train. He straightens up in his seat in an attempt to look more dignified while riding the train—because he's a state alchemist, and military officers are supposed to look dignified. That's what Oikawa always says when Iwaizumi mocks him for the amount of time he spends fixing his hair and uniform, anyway.

In the glass of the window, he can see that his hair on the side of his head is sticking out in awful directions. Scowling, he tries to smooth it down, only to be interrupted by loud giggling from across the aisle. He turns to find the source of the laughter, meeting a little girl's eyes. She stares at her for a moment, giggling stopped, and then her lips begin to quiver and she promptly bursts into tears.

"The military man is scary," Kageyama can hear her say to her mother, who is murmuring soothing things while stroking her hair, and he frowns at his reflection again. He's not scary, he thinks. The colonel is scary.

Not soon enough, the train stops at the station in Karasuno.

Stepping onto the platform, Kageyama shields his eyes from the sun. Looking past the station, the town looks… quaint. Shabbier than Kitagawa Daiichi—but perhaps on par with the little shack that was the Kageyama family's poor excuse for a home.

The man working at the train station is asleep at the ticket window, and Kageyama starts in the direction of what he _thinks_ is town, unsure of where exactly to go.

A giant of a man with firewood in tow crosses his path, and Kageyama hesitates. The man is huge—slouching under the weight of the wood on his shoulder, he appears shorter than he is, and Kageyama's not sure he wants to see him at full height. His hair—long, longer than any of the military-issue hair Kageyama sees at Central—is pulled back into a sort of… knot, like Fuhrer Nekomata's wife wears her hair. Kageyama sobers himself up—he, Major Kageyama Tobio, the Freezing Alchemist, can handle speaking to a Karasuno local.

"Hey!" he calls out, and terror flickers across the face of the long-haired man.

"Ah, um, yes, sir?" he asks, words stuttered and timid.

"I've been told to go to Sawamura's General Store," Kageyama says, unsure of why the man looks so afraid.

"Oh, that'll be—it's about five minute's walk that way," he says, a little more confidently, pointing in the direction from which he had come.

"Thank you," Kageyama says, ready to leave.

"Ah, it's no problem, sir," the large man says, giving him an awkward salute and looking just about as uncomfortable as Kageyama feels.

The man hurries off, and Kageyama brushes it aside, beginning down the path to which he had been directed.

As he had been told, he reaches the general store quickly. It looks just as old as the rest of the town, Kageyama thinks, with what appears to be a living space above. The part that stands out to him, though, is the garage-like addition that looks significantly newer, a sign reading _SUGAWARA AUTOMAIL_ above the door.

In the back of his mind, Kageyama wonders if Fullmetal pays his automail mechanic. Judging by the building, it certainly doesn't look like it, and Kageyama frowns. Some customer he must be.

A string of bells attached to the door of the general store gives an irritating little jingle when Kageyama opens it. There's a girl at the counter—blonde and small, no less than a full foot shorter than Kageyama himself. When he approaches the counter, she lets out a… squeak, and Kageyama has no idea how to respond.

"Is your father here?" he asks.

She emits another little squeak, this time looking thoroughly confused and overwhelmed. "Ah… I—I'm afraid my father is dead, sir…" She trembles a little bit, like a leaf in the breeze, and Kageyama blinks in confusion.

"Are _you_ Sawamura, then?" he asks.

This time, the confusion disappears and she tilts her head to the side in understanding. She stands a little taller, scratching the back of her neck with a sheepish smile. "Ah, you're looking for Daichi," she says. "I think he's in the shop with Suga. I'll go get him for you!"

"I'm actually looking for the Fullmetal Alchemist," Kageyama says. Perhaps it's best to be direct with this girl.

For a moment, the girl—whose name Kageyama still does not know—looks confused, but then she lets out something that sounds halfway between a squeak and a whine. " _Ah!_ I'm sorry!" she cries. "I shouldn't have assumed— _I'm sorry!_ —I'll go get him!"

Before Kageyama can respond, the small girl has disappeared through a door behind the counter. Waiting, he browses the shelves of products. He's just reaching for a bottle of milk when the small girl returns, a red-haired boy in tow.

"Are you going to get Fullmetal for me?" he asks, trying to figure out why exactly the boy—who isn't much taller than the tiny girl—is there.

Shorty scowls, and Kageyama can only watch as the kid jumps—fucking _jumps_ —over the counter. "I _am_ Fullmetal," he says. And then, almost as an afterthought, he adds, "And hey! Don't call me that. My name's Hinata, not Fullmetal."

"You're shorter than I expected," Kageyama says, honestly, and that's all he manages to get out before Fullmetal throws himself at him.

"I'm not short!" he insists. "Hitoka is shorter than me!"

Hitoka must be the small girl, Kageyama realizes, and then his scowl deepens. "Just because she's short doesn't mean you're not also short. _Dumbass_ ," he scoffs. Oikawa must have intentionally chosen a moron to be his partner, he thinks.

"I'm not a dumbass! _You're_ the dumbass," Fullmetal says, and promptly jumps—fucking _jumps!_ —on Kageyama's back, attempting to get the taller alchemist in a headlock. _How can someone with automail jump like that?_

"Get off of me!" Kageyama tries to pry Fullmetal's arms from around his neck, to no avail. Preoccupied, he doesn't notice Hitoka slip out the door as he begins trying to unwrap Fullmetal's legs from around his waist. Automail is resilient, he notices. But if he tries hard enough, he's sure he could get the metal to budge. He's just started hopping around in an attempt to shake him off when the door opens again, and two men walk through, Hitoka watching from the doorway.

The shorter one—with ash-blond hair and an oil-stained apron—looks amused, but the taller one, dark-haired with arms crossed, looks furious. " _Enough!_ " he booms, and Kageyama can feel Hinata freeze before letting go and dropping back down to the floor.

" _Hinata_ ," the man says, his tone warning, and Kageyama wants to shrink back, too. "The major is our guest while he's here. This will _not_ happen again. Not in my store," he says, and Kageyama realizes, _this must be Sawamura_.

Sawamura uncrosses his arms, hands on his waist as he glares at a shrinking Hinata, and Kageyama can't tear his eyes from the store owner. _Both of his hands are automail_ , Kageyama realizes, presumably more of Sugawara's work. They look similar to Fullmetal's legs. Something akin to fear sets in— _what is with these people?_ What kind of things, Kageyama wonders, could possibly go on in a small country town for this kind of damage to be left behind?


End file.
